We just need a seat – not a badge to tell the world we are pregnant
G IVEN that ‘guess who’s pregnant’ comes second only to ‘guess who’s dead’ in the league table of Irish gossip, there are a million reasons why women might not want other people to know they’re in the family way.
Let’s not revisit the protracted and bruising campaign about bodily autonomy – from which we’re still recovering – but the reality is that not every woman is thrilled to discover she’s pregnant.
And even those who are thrilled usually have a whole head full of worries. Will the baby be healthy? Will I be healthy? What will my parents say? And of course, what will my boss say?
The sad shadow of miscarriage also hangs over so many pregnancies. I told the whole world I was expecting my second baby, only to lose it ten weeks into the pregnancy.
Everyone knew, so everyone asked. When I became pregnant again, I didn’t even tell a doctor until I was 14 weeks along.
I wasn’t sick, but I could have been. Most expectant mothers who experience morning sickness do so in the first trimester. If that had happened to me now, and I was on public transport, then I could have availed of the new Transport For Ireland ‘baby on board’ badge, launched this week.
It might have got me a seat on a crowded bus or Luas. But just imagine all the questions and the ‘guess who’s pregnant’ phone calls it might also have prompted.
That’s just me. I never had to fiddle due dates on any of my pregnancies, but I honestly know dozens of women who did – either in order to secure longer maternity leave after the baby was born (you’re supposed to stop working four weeks before the real hard work starts) or because they weren’t confident that they could retain their job at all.
Many more women hold off telling their employers they’re pregnant until as late as possible – again, because there is plenty of evidence that employers, especially in small and medium enterprises, discriminate against women who have children on their watch. But now, thanks to Transport For Ireland, you can get a badge that tells the whole world – quite possibly long before you’re ready to confide in your best friend. Now don’t get me wrong: a baby on board badge is better than no badge at all. I’m just not convinced that the message is, well, on message.
When I was in London at the peak of the heatwave last month, Transport For London – which also introduced a baby on board badge some years back – was advising any passengers struggling with the stifling heat on the Underground to request a badge that simply said, ‘Please offer me a seat’.
When TfL launched the badges last year, there was an immediate take-up of 40,000.
People don’t have to provide a medical reason for obtaining the badge, though presumably pure laziness would preclude the pure lazy from the task of actually applying for it.
There are plenty of reasons why people might not be able to stand on public transport, so ‘please offer me a seat’ covers a multitude.
And while it might not put an end to speculation – to be fair, I could still envisage a ‘guess who was wearing a “please offer me a seat” badge’ phone call home – it doesn’t have quite the same sense of wearing your medical records on your sleeve. S URE there will be expectant mothers who will be proud and delighted to sport ‘baby on board’ badges on public transport, and I hope people around them will respond by surrendering their seats. I certainly would.
But I know from experience that people who appear perfectly healthy and able are sometimes really struggling to stand.
On the day I was discharged from hospital, a week after my first baby was lifted eight weeks prematurely from my failing body, I caught a bus to my nearest Mothercare to panic-buy all the equipment I’d previously thought I still had ages to get.
The bus was full. Thirty years of age and not pregnant, there was no way I was going to be offered a seat – even in London, one of the politest places on Earth. It was, happily, the only time in my entire life (including three pregnancies) when I ever really needed to sit down on public transport. And all the ‘baby on board’ badges in the world couldn’t have helped me.
Look, the introduction of the badges here is a step in the right direction, and kudos to National Transport Authority CEO Anne Graham and the Transport For Ireland team for taking it. But can I suggest that once the teething phase is over, they also consider a more universal and discreet ‘please offer me a seat’ badge?
Sometimes you don’t want the world to know your business. But you could really do with sitting down.